


stress relief

by feeltripping



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bottom Lexa, Breathplay, F/F, Light Dom/sub, Top Clarke, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:30:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7936492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feeltripping/pseuds/feeltripping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa has a bad day. Clarke helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stress relief

Lexa comes home and walks straight from the door, stepping out of her shoes and dropping her bag carelessly, to the bedroom.

Clarke looks up from her book. “Lexa?”

She hears a thump, and then silence. She goes to the bedroom: Lexa is facedown, sideways across the bed. “Lex?”

“I lost.” Her voice is muffled against the mattress, defeated. “I never lose.”

Clarke hesitates at the door. “Mock trial?” Lexa’s head jerks against the comforter, nodding. “Your team?”

Lexa sits up, furious. “Useless.” She strips her socks off and hurls them against the wall, breathing hard. “I never should have trusted them. Three cross examinations, wasted.” She clenches her fists at her side and glowers at the floor. “Two weeks of nonstep preparation. Six all nighters. I was late to your birthday dinner. And I lost.”

Clarke steps closer, careful. “And your grade?”

Lexa waves a hand. “Irrelevant.”

“So an ‘A’, then.”

Lexa slits her eyes. “Of course. As if I would allow such--” she makes a noise, incoherent rage “--to impact my transcript in any meaningful way.”

Clarke nudges Lexa’s knees apart and slides onto the mattress between them. She kisses Lexa’s unresponsive lips, gentle. “Then your professor knows you’re amazing.”

Lexa doesn’t look at her. “I failed.” She exhales, sharp. “I failed.”

Clarke moves away and sits with her back at the headboard, giving Lexa space. “What do you need?”

Lexa breathes through her nose, frowning. “I--” She stops.

“I could go to Octavia’s,” Clarke offers, even as the words choke coming out. She doesn’t want to leave Lexa like this. Lexa shakes her head and Clarke takes a breath, relieved. “We can make dinner, sit on the couch. Cuddlefest?”

Lexa’s fists clench again. She shakes her head, jerky, and sighs, hard. Her long fingers curl around Clarke’s ankle. “Please.”

Clarke is surprised. “You--you’re sure?”

Lexa bends, her hair falling over her face, and presses a feather light kiss to the arch of Clarke’s foot. “Yes.”

Clarke spreads her legs and pats the space between them. “Come here.”

Lexa moves slow, so slow to her, her shoulders hunched. She kneels there, her jaw tight, her weight resting on her heels. Clarke takes her hand, careful, and rubs a thumb against her palm, feels Lexa’s pulse flutter in her wrist. She applies pressure, testing, and Lexa falls into her, shuddering. Clarke helps her shrug off her blazer, undo the top buttons of her blouse. Clarke drops a single kiss to the hollow of Lexa’s throat, and Lexa arches before bearing down, kissing her hard. “Please,” she whispers against Clarke’s lips. 

“Okay,” Clarke shushes her, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Lexa slumps against her, mouthing absently at her jaw, her neck, until Clarke pinches her hip, gentle. “Lie down for me? On your back.”

Lexa hesitates, but she turns, going prone on her back, looking up at Clarke upside down. She’s still too tense, her brow furrowed, and Clarke settles atop her, pressing her weight down. She kisses her for a long time, gently chaste, running soothing hands up and down Lexa’s sides. Lexa’s eyes are closed and she sighs softly into their kiss, but after a while she fidgets, restless. Her hands come up, then press back down on the mattress. She turns her head away and makes a frustrated, helpless noise. She rocks her hips up. “Clarke,” she says, low and pleading.

“Okay,” Clarke repeats, “I’ve got you.” She sits up, urging Lexa to lift her hips, and gets her slacks off, her underwear. Lexa sets her fingers on the buttons of her blouse. “No, leave it.” Lexa nods, and settles back down on her back. She spreads her legs wide.

“Clarke,” she says softly, and Clarke kneels between her legs, bowing her body down. She keeps it soft and slow until Lexa groans, her hips pistoning, and then goes hard and fast, sliding two fingers inside her along with her tongue. Lexa’s moans turn into sobs, almost pained, and she shakes. “I can’t,” she pants, her hands in Clarke’s hair pushing away. “Stop, please.”

Clarke sits up, wiping at her mouth. “Shh, okay, baby, Of course.” She hesitates. “Do you want to try--?”

“Please.” Lexa swallows, and turns her head away. Clarke scoots up the bed, awkward, and sits against the headboard again.

“Come here,” she says, soft, and guides Lexa’s back to lean against her chest. Lexa sighs out, relaxing an inch, and her head tips back on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke unbuttons her blouse, nudging the two halves back, and runs her hands across Lexa’s stomach, her hips, across the fabric of her bra. Lexa’s hand grips her knee, reassuring, and she makes an encouraging noise. Clarke kisses the side of her throat, tucking her hair back from her face, and bites down cautiously on Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa shudders. “Baby,” Clarke whispers against her skin, “you sure?”

Lexa licks her dry lips. “Yes.”

Clarke bites down until she breaks the skin. She licks at her mark, hard, then presses a nail against it until Lexa shudders again, once. “Good girl,” she murmurs, with a last drag of her tongue. Lexa goes limp against her, pliant. “You need this, huh?” Lexa whines. “Yeah, you do. Ask me.”

“Clarke,” Lexa whispers.

Clarke sucks another dark, angry bruise into Lexa’s skin. “Ask me.”

Lexa grabs her by the hand, squeezing once before laying it across her throat, palm down. “Please?”

“Show me Red.”

Lexa lifts a hand from the mattress, showing three fingers.

“Deep breath,” Clarke says, and lays her free hand flat on Lexa’s sternum, feeling it rise. Lexa holds for a few seconds, then exhales. Clarke tightens the hand around her throat, feeling Lexa’s muscles contract, flutter. She releases and Lexa sucks in a breath of air, shuddering. Clarke twitches her fingers and Lexa shivers. “Color.”

“Green,” Lexa says, tilting her head back as far as she can. She takes a deep breath, her eyes fluttering shut.

Clarke tightens her grip, harder, longer. “Listen,” she says to Lexa in a soft whisper. “Hear that? The traffic, the cars.” Clarke tilts her head. “The clock on the wall, the fridge humming?” She releases and Lexa gasps, panting. She waits five seconds and cuts off her air again. “Look. See the light on in the hall? The sun fading through the window?” Lexa’s chest spasms under her hand and she lets go, letting Lexa breathe. “Just us, in here. You and me.”

“I’ll be good,” Lexa says, her voice rasping through her throat. 

Clarke kisses her temple. “You’re always good. Deep breath.” She holds Lexa’s throat shut for a long time. “You’re brilliant. You work hard. You’re going to be the top of your class, the most recruited graduate, the best fucking lawyer in the country.” Lexa’s leg kicks up, helpless; she shakes. Her eyes water, squeezed shut and she twists in Clarke’s grasp, trying to escape. Clarke checks--Lexa’s hand is flat on the mattress, so she holds for two more long beats of her own heart before releasing. Lexa’s chest expands, explosive, she coughs for fifteen seconds, sucking in desperate lungfuls. “Good, baby?”

Lexa nods, her eyes spilling over. Clarke slips two fingers down Lexa’s body, sliding across her clit before starting a slow easy thrust. She massages Lexa’s throat, Lexa hiding her face in Clarke’s neck. “Let go,” Clarke says. She squeezes one final time, knowing she’ll leave rings of bruises, her fingerprints in Lexa’s skin. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

Lexa arches up, her entire body straining; she clenches around Clarke’s fingers and comes with a noise that rises from her chest, stopped short by Clarke’s fingers. It emerges as a long low groan, lasting almost ten seconds, before she collapses, twitching. Clarke skims fingers across her skin, working her through her aftershocks under she’s still and quiet. Clarke scoots them down, keeping Lexa tucked against her, and spoons her, nuzzling. “Okay?”

Lexa takes a while to answer. “Yes,” she says finally, exhaling long. “Sorry. I was--I know it’s not that important, in the long run.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.” Lexa twists her head around and they kiss, soft and sweet. 

“You’re too good to me,” Lexa says as she stretches, lightly, then wiggles back into Clarke’s body. “I’ll make it up to you.” Her voice is still wrecked, rasping. It’ll be even lower tomorrow, and Clarke shivers a little. 

“You better,” she hums, and nips at Lexa’s earlobe. “Eat something?”

Lexa frowns. “I’m not hungry.” She pulls Clarke’s arm over her hip. “Nap?” Her tone is pouty, pleading, and she snuffles into the pillow. “You can go, if you want. I can cuddle myself.”

“Temptress,” Clarke accuses, and Lexa’s smile is pleased, sated. Clarke puts a growl in her voice. “Next time won’t be nearly so gentle,” she promises, and Lexa grins. 

“Count on it.”

**Author's Note:**

> i just want to live my sin life in peace
> 
> tumblr @ feeltripping


End file.
